Both Elariel Town and Azure Spring Town sprang into action.

This sudden turn of events was likely to bring about a massive surge in the kingdom's population. In response, Kaen sent word to the civil officials currently studying in Rivendell, commanding their return. He instructed them to prepare for an urgent census and the resettlement of incoming refugees.

It was during this critical time that Norman approached Kaen.

The moment they met, Norman dropped to one knee, his voice resolute as he declared:

"Your Majesty Kaen, I have made my decision. I renounce my past as a feudal lord. From this moment forward, I vow to follow you in forging a new era of glory. Please, accept my allegiance!"

Kaen was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected gesture.

But upon hearing the sincerity in Norman's words, he quickly regained composure. He fixed his gaze on the man before him, locking eyes with the unwavering determination that burned in Norman's expression.

After a long silence, Kaen finally spoke:

"If you have truly cast aside your past, then I accept your fealty. Rise."

"There is a large group of refugees making their way here from the lower reaches of the Bruinen River. I intend to take them in. My civil officials are also returning from Rivendell as we speak."

"In this crucial hour, Norman Thornwain, I hereby appoint you acting administrator. You are to participate in the refugee resettlement operation. The role you earn beyond this… will depend on your performance."

Upon hearing this, Norman's eyes lit up with emotion. He immediately responded, "Your Majesty, I will not disappoint you!"

And so, Norman formally pledged allegiance to Kaen and, without delay, threw himself into the hectic preparations to receive the refugees.

….

Tifa, who came from a merchant family, wasted no time contacting numerous traders to procure a large stockpile of supplies.

Thanks to the kingdom's trade tax system, a portion of the expenditures would cycle back in the form of taxes—and the money spent would in turn be spent again. Every single coin was stretched to its maximum potential.

With a wealth of supplies now secured, Kaen ordered Norman to conscript over a thousand laborers from the residents of Elariel Town and the 2,000+ refugees already within their borders.

These workers were assigned to designated zones where they cleared snow, pitched tents, and lit bonfires.

To prevent potential unrest among the refugees, Kaen commanded the construction of watchtowers between tent rows. Two archers were stationed in each tower, with patrols of five spearmen per unit roaming the camp.

Beside the emergency granaries and makeshift kitchens, local women were organized to bake bread and prepare meals, while twenty heavily armored infantrymen stood guard over the food stores.

On Kaen's orders, Azure Spring and Elariel Towns coordinated via messenger birds, with updates exchanged every hour to ensure all operations remained synchronized.

…..

Meanwhile, across the windswept wilderness of Eriador, a swarm of black dots slowly moved through the white, snow-laden world.

A unit of light cavalry stood watching from a nearby hillside.

Their eyes widened in disbelief.

"This can't just be five thousand people… It's got to be at least ten thousand!"

"By the Valar… I've never seen so many people in my life."

Cathril frowned as she took in the sight of the massive refugee procession. She silently cursed her brother—Lairon—for once again being utterly unreliable.

A soldier turned to her. "Captain, what are your orders?"

Cathril gave it some thought, then issued her command:

"Move in. Stabilize the situation. Relocate a third of the refugees to Azure Spring Town and the remaining two-thirds to Elariel Town."

"Someone ride back and inform the King. He needs to be prepared for what's coming."

With her orders dispatched, Cathril led thirty light cavalry down the snowy slope at a gallop.

They reached the front of the refugee column, halting the slow-moving sea of desperate souls.

"This is the land of the Kingdom of Eowenría. All of you—halt where you stand!"

The refugees froze at the command. The lifeless hollowness in their eyes sparked—if only faintly—with color.

"Eowenría… Eowenría…"

"We made it. We've finally made it!"

"Did you hear that? We've reached Eowenría! We're saved!"

Anxious cries rose from the crowd, their voices trembling with emotion.

An elderly man hobbled forward on a cane, then dropped to his knees in the snow. His voice quivered with desperation.

"Milady, our homes were destroyed by monsters. We had no choice but to flee, to wander these frozen lands."

"We came in faith, having heard of the righteous name of King Kaen. Please… we beg you. Grant us shelter."

"We have lost everything—our homes, our fields… If you would give us even a scrap of bread, we would be forever grateful to His Majesty."

"Please… help us!"

Tears welled in the old man's eyes. His words were soaked in pleading, a final reach for hope.

Moved by his plea, the masses behind him all dropped to their knees, a tide of suffering souls yearning for salvation.

Cathril's eyes softened. Pity flickered in her expression.

And yet—

When one of the cavalrymen reached into his pack to offer rations, Cathril quickly stopped him with a sharp glance.

She knew all too well: in the eyes of thousands of starving people, even a single loaf of bread could spark chaos if not every mouth could be fed.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice and spoke clearly:

"By the order of His Majesty, King Kaen of Eowenría, I have come to receive you. The moment your feet touched this land, you were already safe."

"His Majesty will provide you with food and shelter, and welcome you as citizens of the kingdom."

"All of you—now divide yourselves into two groups. You will be escorted to separate sanctuaries where aid awaits."

Tears streamed down faces. Hope flickered to life. Cries of gratitude toward Eowenría and its king erupted from the crowd.

….

Under Cathril's firm direction, the refugees split into two long lines.

She dispatched ten cavalrymen to escort the three to four thousand headed toward Azure Spring Town, while she herself led the remaining six to seven thousand toward Elariel Town.

The riders slowed their pace, maintaining a fifty-meter distance ahead of the refugees to guide them.

The refugees followed, their steps slowly growing steadier.

They all knew it: on the frozen wilds of winter, if one were to collapse… there would be no standing again.

From morning until twilight, they marched.

And at long last, as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, a town emerged on the edge of the snowy expanse—

A beacon of hope gleaming in the gathering dusk.